


Alleycats

by SoupShue



Series: The Plot Bunnies Made Me do it [1]
Category: Criminal Minds: Suspect Behavior
Genre: Autism Spectrum Character, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Please Be careful, Raw and unedited, Slow To Update, but its there, darn you plot bunnies!, it's mild, testing ideas, unbeta-d
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-20
Updated: 2017-04-28
Packaged: 2018-03-18 19:08:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 9
Words: 13,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3580632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoupShue/pseuds/SoupShue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lynn comes to the alley to play with the stray cats and watch the calm man paint. She knows she's doing a Bad Thing sneaking out to come to the alley but Bad Things happen at home, so maybe this isn't the Baddest Thing she could do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Rainstorm

**Author's Note:**

> another part of a story with Lynn. But instead of Avengers it's with the CMSB crew. What is this? does it have anywhere to go? I don't know

The violent crash of breaking tableware from the kitchen shattered the quiet in the apartment accompanied by a hastily cut off yelp and another sound that Lynn was starting to understand meant the Scary Man had knocked Momma over because she needed to be Punished. That sound and the low, growl-word sounds coming from the Scary Man were all it took for Lynn to get ready to go outside. Stupid Gary had hit her tonight with the lamp from their room when she’d started crying about missing Daddy again. This time, Gary hadn’t even been sad about it. He just laughed at her. So she’d dried her tears as best she could and taken one of the old dish towel rags Momma was going to throw away to cover the cut on her head and she’d crawled into her closet when Gary had gone to the living room to watch cartoons.

Lynn knew she needed to get away tonight and stay away, because Scary Man was Angry and he liked to hurt her worse if Gary had already had his turn, and Gary would tell him that she was crying, and Scary Man would come to Punish her and she didn’t want that to happen. So she wore her warmest dark pants and shirt and pulled her Daddy’s snuggly poncho with the big hood that made her look like a shadow or an old trash bag from the back of her little closet where she’d hidden it in her nest under all of her clothes. Then, keeping her listening ears moving for changes in noises like the cats did in the alley, Lynn crept to the window and eased it open as quietly as her eight year old self could manage.

When she put her Daddy’s poncho on after climbing out the window on to the fire escape and shutting the window from the outside with the help of a bent coat hanger she hid out here, she smiled for the first time since she’d last had it on because it was safe and felt like she was curling up under a tent and in Daddy’s lap at the same time even though Daddy was gone.

Loud snarly sounds started coming fast from the kitchen as Lynn settled on the landing of the fire escape and she froze. Boss Cats in the alleys made those sounds when they were really angry and about to fight. Scary Man made those sounds when he was about to use his hands instead of his words. When he moved in, he made it clear he was Boss Cat of the apartment and that Lynn being the littlest and the strangest made her the scaredy cat, the one everyone else left alone but got to tease and torment and hurt for fun if she got in the way. Scary Man might not come hurt her next, but he liked hurting Lynn and she never wanted that. She made up her mind to see if the calm man was painting, it always made her happy to watch him paint. There was another loud crash and a cry coming from the apartment as she got ready to drop off the fire escape and she was starting to wonder if it was even a good idea to come back here again to her room.

Her room in the apartment used to be home when Daddy was alive, all warm and safe and quiet like the nests Lady Cats made for kittens. Like the Nest Daddy had helped her make in her closet. Daddy and Momma were like two Lady Cats- real Lady Cats took care of kittens all by themselves but Lynn was a big girl and she knew people only sometimes raised babies alone- protecting and loving and taking care of Lynn and Gary. And Gary was like a litter mate, he played with her and helped her understand what other kids were doing or talking about, and he protected her and played games that she liked to play when the neighborhood kids got too rough.

It wasn’t like that anymore since Daddy went away and Scary Man moved in.

Lynn missed Daddy. He understood what to do to make it better when Lynn felt like she couldn’t sit still or her body would tear apart, when her body felt too heavy and too light and itchy and hot and cold and her skin got tight and scratchy. He always held her really, really tight against his heartbeat sitting on the floor with her in his lap when she started crying about the bugs with prickly legs crawling all over her, and he would tell her that her body was playing tricks- there weren’t bugs, but her body was saying she needed to be held tight and since it didn’t have its own mouth to talk to her, it yelled at her by making Lynn feel like there were bugs. He never got mad at her when she started to panic because the feelings that she was feeling were so hard to deal with and they all wanted OUT and they didn’t know how to wait their turns and she’d get confused and frustrated and hit things. He would take her little hands in his big hands and squeeze them hard and smile at her and say “Lynn, breathe with me and count out loud” and she would and she could calm down a little and wait for the tangled mess inside of her to sort itself out just enough so she could use her words like a big girl and not break things or hit herself or flap her arms.

There were days that Daddy got mad like she got mad, she knew he understood some of what happened to her because he felt the same way as her about things, but he was a lot smarter than Lynn and he knew how to use his words most of the time. Daddy wasn’t always mean like the Scary Man, Daddy knew how to talk to her without screaming or grabbing her to shake her and Daddy taught Momma and Gary how to help Lynn. When she was old enough, he taught Lynn how to help herself. One day, he’d taken her into her room and showed her how to make a nest in the back corner of her closet, a place where she could feel like she was being hugged really, really tight when there wasn’t anyone around to hug her. He showed her how to squeeze herself between the wall and the shelving unit to get pressure, and how to wrap herself in a really big blanket. He gave her his old Poncho, and a blanket filled with little round stones like a beanbag except a whole lot bigger that felt really good. And he whispered to her that if she needed to flap her arms or rock back and forth, she could always come to the closet and shut the door and it would be her very own secret.

Sometimes she still wanted to break things. It was hard not to break things when Scary Man broke things all the time, it was so much harder to find her big girl words when Scary Man scared them right out of her head and they hid under her tongue like kittens hid under the dumpsters, and he tried to shake them out of her instead of wait for them to come. Lynn knew Scary Man thought she was broken and it made her angry- she couldn’t help it if the world was broken and she couldn’t help it that she didn’t understand. Lynn knew Scary Man would try and break her to fix her, everyone but Daddy always did.

Lynn knew that there would be a bad Punishment if she was caught trying to leave and she was careful to look across the street at all the windows before she moved an inch, and when she moved, it was careful and precise just like the way the Boss Cats moved. She was also very, very careful not to make any noise as she slipped between the rails of the fire escape and dropped to the ground, tucking into a little ball and rolling along the alley for a short way between the two apartment buildings. She did that so she wouldn’t hurt herself, but the pressure of landing and rolling felt really good too. The first few times she’d tried moving like a Boss Cat off the fire escape she’d hurt herself because she’d tried to land flat on her feet like they did. That had hurt and she’d scraped herself up on the pavement when she fell over, now she just landed and rolled. It wasn’t as pretty as when the cats did it, but there was a lot less ouch and a lot more good warm feeling involved and she looked like a bit of trash someone had tossed out onto the escape. That stopped the people in the other building from calling the Badges to come look in the alley even if they did see her leave. Lynn didn’t like the Badges, and she didn’t like how Angry the Scary Man was after the Badges left their apartment.

She was quiet as he made her way slowly down the alley. She wanted to be calm tonight, she wanted to be safe. The corner by the dumpster watching the calm man paint was about as safe and calm as it was going to get for Lynn tonight. She was very quiet as she made her way down the alley and around the back corner of the building, stealthy and graceful, she might be scaredy cat at the apartment, but in the Alleys, she was another Boss Cat, and Boss Cats didn’t have to be the biggest or the loudest. Sometimes the Boss Cats were the quietest. Lynn was quiet at home, she’d learned how to be quiet and learned fast, because Scary Man would Punish her if she made too much noise, or if he caught her leaving the apartment even with Momma’s permission, or Gary would hit her for doing a Bad Thing, or Momma would yell at her and shake her.

She tried to lose the sad, heavy rain cloud thoughts as she made her way to the best spot to watch the calm man paint. It always made her so happy to watch him, even when she was as sad and other things that didn’t have names like now.

Lynn shivered as she shook the cold raindrops and sweat and blood out of her eyes, adjusting the hood of Daddy’s poncho so she could see into the window of the loft apartment across the Alley Street from where she sat. In this part of town, many of the buildings had more frequently used side doors than front doors, and some of the alleyways were big enough and well paved enough to drive on. She’d settled most comfortably on an old piece of packing foam using the little corner made from the side of the dumpster and the wall of the building to shield her from the worst of the wind and from prying eyes. The calm man with the slightly squinty eye who dressed in black was painting again, and because she didn’t want to go home to the screaming and the yelling and the blood, she was here, watching him paint. It didn’t matter right now that he was a Man, or that he was friends with people who wore the Badges, or that there were only two girls that went in to the building where the Men who Fought went and where the calm man lived, because he didn’t know she existed. Lynn was afraid that Scary Man would Punish her if he found out where she went to hide, and she was just as terrified of the calm man or his friends catching her and getting Angry, because he was a Man, and Men always got Angry when Lynn did something they didn’t like, and she knew she was spying and sneaking to look at his pretty paintings, and those were Bad Things that got little runty girls like her Punished.

So she was very careful to come only when she was very afraid of being Punished by Scary Man, when it was dark and the calm man’s friends were already going home or smelling of the Liquid Fire and laughing and joking. Or when it was raining so hard that they wouldn’t see much behind the shadows of the dumpster near the side doorway of the bar where the Liquid Fire was sold. Sometimes when she snuck away to hide here, the calm man and his friends weren’t around at all and she would just settle to listen to the burble of music and voices from inside the bar, sometimes they all went into the building and BECAME the Men who Fought and on those days she left because then the calm man wasn’t calm and the sounds that came from the building reminded her too much of the Scary Man.

Sometimes the calm man would be sad and go with his friends into the bar to drink Liquid Fire, and when that happened Lynn always became even more afraid and so she’d go hide in the very corner of the alley behind the very scratchy bushes at the back corner of the bar where very few people ever came and sometimes if she did that, the stray Boss Cat with the missing ear and the four black socks would come and curl up in her lap and purr and tell her the gossip of the alley cats in his rumbles and growls and grouchy little mumbles.

Lynn always tried to make friends with the Boss Cats when she left the apartment. They kept the rats away and sometimes let her share food if she was very hungry, they protected her and Lynn was little and runty and worthless, Momma and Scary Man said so, and Gary always went with whatever Scary Man said. So Lynn knew she needed the Boss Cats to help her, they had claws and teeth and attitude and they were an amazing warning system for Bad Things about to happen. If the Boss Cats got upset and stiffened and hissed and sharpened claws and slunk away, Lynn knew she needed to do the same, if they froze with their ears back and their mouths wide open, she knew she needed to run and hide. If they yowled, and their ears went back, it usually meant that another alley cat had come to try and be Boss Cat, those scuffs were always loud, nearly as loud as when the Lady Cats came around.

Making friends with the Boss Cats had saved her more times than she could count, they never lied about danger being near and they always, always warned her. Lynn needed to not be lied to, everyone lied to her except the alley cats. Even Gary lied to her now.

Lynn was very glad that she’d learned how to be quiet, because the calm man’s friends had Eyes. Not ‘I’m the Momma and I know you’re eating out of the cookie jar’ eyes, and not exactly People with Badges in Suits and Blue Shirts eyes, not like some of the other Men who sometimes came into the alleys or like Scary Man’s eyes either- the cold and hard and deep eyes like the rats- like they wanted to bite her and chew on her hair and her shirt and her shoes, like they would like to make her hurt. The calm man and his friends had Eyes sort of like the Boss Cat’s eyes, deep and watchful and like they glowed in the dark (even though Lynn knew the Boss Cat’s eyes didn’t really glow), like they saw the shadows and moved in them, but they weren’t like the rats.

Just because they weren’t like the rats, didn’t mean they didn’t scare Lynn into stillness and silence when they were near. The calm man and his friends’ Eyes might be like the Boss Cat’s Eyes, but they were still people, and Lynn knew that sometimes people were the worst rats ever, even people who promised to help could be like the rats who pretended to like being pet until they were close enough to savage your face. Lynn had personal experience with rats and people like the rats and it only made her more wary, she trusted the Boss Cats in the alleys she visited, and she trusted herself, that was it.

The calm man might be soothing to watch, but he was a Man, and a person with a lot of grown up friends with Badges and Eyes, he would bite her like a rat and watch her bleed if he caught her. There was no other way for him to be. Lynn sighed and settled further down into Daddy’s poncho as she watched the dance of the calm man’s brush on the white not-paper he liked to put his paint on. She didn’t need to talk to the calm man, he didn’t need to know she was here, she was a Boss Cat. Like all the other Boss Cats, people rarely saw her, but she did change things sometimes, like the Boss Cats would clear an alley of rats, people would notice something was different, but not why. People were blind a lot of the time. And Lynn liked it that way. If people were blind and couldn’t see her, then she was safer. After all, to the people around her, she was still little and a scaredy cat, someone different and strange that could be used and tormented if other people felt like it, the less anyone noticed her, the better off she was.  

         Better off not thinking gloomy thoughts though, better off just getting lost in watching the paintbrush move over the not-paper, and the way that calm man swirled different colors on the end of the brush to make new ones. That was always fascinating, even though Lynn could never see what he was actually painting on the not-paper. She concentrated on the movement of the brushes over the surface the calm man was working on, and soon the dance that the brushes made lulled her along with the rain, and everything was soft and blurry at the edges, and unfocused, but at the same time, the brushes and the rain were in sharp detail, every drop of rain sparkling and sharp like they were little crystals falling from the fluffy on top but heavy on bottom grey and black and inky blue clouds, and the brush on the canvas and the sound of the rain hitting the sides of the building and the window glass and the concrete and the metal of the dumpster were the only things that Lynn could feel or hear or see.

Her thoughts went numb as she felt the rain splatter and pound and sing on her poncho and drip between her and the wall of the dumpster, all that mattered was the world where the rain talked and the brush danced and the paints sang their own song.             


	2. Overslept

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A very short interlude

It relaxed her so much listening to the symphony created by the rain and watching the dance of the brush that even in the alley without a Boss Cat, Lynn fell asleep.

       She woke first to the uncomfortable warm, wet, prickly weight of the air after the rain stops. Sticky and fuggy and humid, settling on her skin like syrup for pancakes. Like when a big, slobbery, friendly dog came to say hello and got to close. Ew. She realized that it was sunny outside. She was stiff from sitting tucked against the dumpster and the wall all night, but it felt good too, the tight pinch and squeeze of being bunched in close, the pressure against her bones and muscles that made her feel all liquid on the inside. Her bottom was drippy wet on top of the foam and her pants were tight and heavy and soggy. This was gross. It felt awful. Lynn wanted to get dry. It rained all night, the steady thump thump tap of the rain on her poncho keeping her well asleep.

         There were busy shuffling noises of feet slapping the sidewalk at the front of the alley, angry voices in the air. Loud windy sounds like trumpets from the air racing through the alley was made worse with the weird changes in the screeching and shushing and whooshing noises that meant cars and trucks were passing on the street. There were even a few car horns making tiny needles of sound to go through her ears. Ow! She hated That Noise! It Hurt!

     It was daytime. It was daytime and she wasn’t in her room. The Scary Man was going to be very, very angry. Lynn felt her body go all cold, then too hot, she felt weird prickles all over her like ants were crawling on her and biting her. Her chest got really, really tight. She was in So Much Trouble. This was a Very Bad Thing.

       Lynn slowly opened her eyes, tilting her head a very tiny bit to look around. There wasn’t anyone in the alley besides her and the sun was still not very high in the sky. She sat up a little and shifted Daddy’s Poncho to look around. All the doors in this alley were shut the bar was quiet the place where the Fighting Men went was quiet and the calm man wasn’t painting anymore. There was a Boss Cat at the end of the alley sitting up, telling Lynn he owned this place, reminding her who he was. If she moved now she might still be safe. If she waited, she was In Trouble. She had to go back to her room. Momma and Gary would get Punished if she wasn’t there.

       She stood up, slow and careful. Not making any loud noises. The Boss Cat at the corner gave a low _MRRRT_ of a growl warning, Lynn quickly looked away and crouched a little. Shifting her body to work out the pinched too tight spots, she slid into the shadows and hurried to the back where the Boss Cat sat. He gave a puffy, proud sniffy hiss and stalked off, tail high and twitching. Lynn smiled. He was teasing her. She needed that bit of sunny thought to hold her as she raced back around the building and up a different alley to her apartment. Being very careful, she looked at the windows across the street, it was a busier time of day, but it was still early, so she took a breath, wished for Daddy to help her and scrambled back up the fire escape and to her room. She crouched low and then peered inside, nobody was moving, nobody was making a sound. She opened her window slow, climbed back inside and shut it just as slow. Heaving a breath she raced into her closet and pulled off her squishy, wet, drippy things stuffing them deep into her hamper before hiding her poncho under her nest again.

       She changed into sleep jammies and climbed into bed, curling up and pretending that she’d been there all along. Quietly, so no one else would hear she whispered “thanks Daddy. I love you.”

       She didn’t know how long it was, but it wasn’t very long before her door slammed open with a loud crack. Scary Man was growling and yowling like a Boss Cat ready to fight and he pulled Lynn out of bed. She cowered, being very careful not to make noise while he yelled and shook her and smacked her for things he thought she’d done wrong. Something changed in the air in the room, something changed in the Scary Man and he got a very bad smile on his face. He stilled. Then with one last smack, he threw her to the floor and told her to get ready for the day. What was that all about? Lynn didn’t understand but she didn’t like it.


	3. Possibilities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Possibilities, Hmm. So many possibilities.

       Darius glared at the pathetic little whelp in front of him. He didn’t want to deal with her, he’d already had a stressful evening and a hectic morning and her defiant ways were grating on his nerves. Obviously it was time to teach her a lesson. The brat was in the way. Very much in the way. Plain and simple she was giving him a headache he didn’t need. He sighed to himself as he continued to shake her, smack her, and scream, trying his hardest to get a satisfying reaction out of her.

       The whelp never obliged him- she was looking at him now with her big brown eyes swimming with confusion and fear but she didn’t cry out, there weren’t any tears, she was damn near silent. She was a freak. Darius hated freaks. The boy he could mold and take on, the boy was teachable. His woman he could handle- she was learning her place. But the whelp. The whelp was a freak, the whelp wasn’t respecting him, the whelp refused to give him satisfaction.

       Satisfaction. Hm. There were possibilities there.

       He snapped out of his introspection to realize he was raising quite a bit of color on her face. She still hadn’t made much more sound than a whimper. There weren’t even enough tears in her eyes to spill over onto her cheeks! Seriously, what the hell was wrong with the little freak?! She was like a doll, a living breathing doll. Hm. Possibilities, definite possibilities. He would have to reach out to some of the more unsavory characters in his network, but maybe there was a way for the girl to earn her keep, earn him a bit extra. He knew people would pay, she was pretty at least, that counted for something. Well, she’d be pretty if he didn’t mark her up too badly.

       On that thought he stilled then gave her a last mighty slap and dropped her collar. She collapsed to the floor with no more sound than a ragged indrawn gasp. She was such a freak. She made him nervous and he didn’t like it. Not one bit. He needed to do something with the problem. Now.

       “Get dressed whelp.” He snarled as he stalked out of her room. He had phone calls to make.

**~~**

      “Hey Sam, do we have a case?” Mick asked, slightly out of breath as he toweled off. He’d just finished a sparring session with Prophet when Sam had appeared on the catwalk above the main floor of the gym.

      “Not exactly, come on up when you’re ready.” He called and then disappeared back into the office.

       Prophet and Mick finished wiping down the mats and equipment they’d used then headed on up to the space above the main gym that the team appropriated as an office space. Renegade office for a renegade red cell team. The gym fit Sam like a well-worn leather glove, like his dark trench coat, like his soft half smile, like the rosary that hung from his belt or the crushing weight of his guilt and sorrow from past decisions. When they entered the office, they found Sam pacing in front of the chalkboard with Beth perched against the edge of the conference table arms crossed silently watching, Gina was nowhere in sight.

       “Where’s Gina?” Prophet asked as he sank into a chair at the end of the conference table and propped his feet up on it. This earned him a staunch look from Beth that he merely grinned at and ignored, settling more comfortably in his chosen position.

       “She got a call summoning her to Annapolis.” Sam murmured absently as he slowed in his pacing for a few moments to glance over at Prophet.

       “Yes Sam, and we know where she is and that everything is fine. Unless you know something we don’t.” Beth stated with an arched eyebrow and a pointed look in Sam’s direction.

       “Just spit it out mate.” Mick chimed in as he leaned against a filing cabinet almost lazily, slightly confused and concerned eyes on his friend and partner. Sam halted for a brief moment and shot a small smile at Mick with a very subtle eye twitch that had Mick relaxing fully against the cabinet.

       “I’m certain that Gina can handle almost anything that might happen in Annapolis, that’s not the issue. I’m just not certain what can be done or needs to be done about the situation at hand, I don’t have all the pieces of the puzzle yet and that makes it hard for me to come up with a plan. I needed some insight and some new perspectives.” The team waited eagerly for him to continue with that thought, but he seemed to momentarily forget that he had called them together.

       His gaze unfocused slightly and he hunched his shoulders a little as he returned to a very lost in thought frame of mind. The pacing continued, a slow, steady lope back and forth in front of the chalk board, precise, but so natural that the team could see it was entirely ingrained, eleven steps and turn, eleven steps and turn over and over and over. His carriage was easy and powerful due to all the martial arts that the movement of his body, even pacing was poetry. His brow was furrowed as he muttered to himself under his breath. Even though he was in constant motion, he didn’t seem to be anxious or hurried, but more like the repetitive movement was a sort of meditation that helped facilitate whatever thought process was occurring in his mind. A thought process that was unfortunately, not verbal.

       “Well Sam, the only way we can help is if you actually tell us what’s going on.” Prophet said after a minute of watching the pacing without any new information. This statement seemed to jar Sam out of whatever mental calculations he was running and his eyes slowly met Prophets. Prophet simply shrugged slightly and made a slight open handed gesture in response.

       “It seems that there is a possibility that I have developed a small, curious shadow. But at this point it’s only a possibility.” Sam nearly whispered. He sounded slightly frustrated.

       “Sam, mate, what do you mean? Why didn’t you tell us sooner you thought you had a tail?!” Mick interjected, instantly alert, eyes sharp and focused. Sam chuckle sighed very softly and looked steadily back at his friend and team mate.

       “Because it’s not a tail Mick. You’re number one on the list to call if I need someone to cover my six. The rest of the team and the director are next. In that order. Don’t worry.” He soothed, watching the snipers’ shoulders relax back into a steady, straightforward posture.

       Everyone else had tensed too, a group of hawks sighting on prey ready to attack, but they followed Mick’s lead and relaxed as he did which made Sam smile just a little. He waited until he had a mostly relaxed but attentive crew before continuing.

       “It’s very frustrating, but I can’t be certain about this little shadow, I keep seeing things. Sometimes I only catch a flicker of movement at the corner of my eye and turn to see a cat. But other times I’ve watched a small, heavily cloaked figure walk through the alley between here and the loft. I’ve felt the weight of eyes watching me in the dark when I’m at my windows. It’s eerie. At first I thought it was just my imagination.” Sam confessed looking around the room at his team.

     “You’re the last person I would suspect of just seeing things that weren’t there Sam, there has to be more to the story. What else has been going on?” Prophet probed gently, leaning forward just slightly in what looked like a much less comfortable position.

       “Sometimes I see this figure after we come back from a case, other times they appear after we’ve all settled in, when I’m relaxing in the loft. I get the sense that this person is around a lot more often than I am aware, but I’ve only caught sight of them a handful of times. Enough times to be nearly certain there is a pattern, but not enough to be certain about what the pattern is. The figure most often appears at night or during inclimate weather, settles and watches, but those few times when I have tried to go down to the alley and talk, they disappear before I can get there. I have a strong suspicion that it is a child. I would call DCFS, but there is very little they can or will do until there is actual proof of a child existing and the ability to contain and speak to said child. DCFS won’t do anything about something that sounds like a character out of a fable.” Sam murmured looking around at the team.

       “What are you looking for from us Sam? I don’t doubt that this person, who is most likely a child is around and watching or focusing on you, I trust your instincts. My question is what are you proposing we do? The Bureau won’t sanction any sort of official action. Not even for a Red Cell Team.” Beth cautioned, shifting position slightly and crossing her arms as she looked to Sam with raised eyebrows.

       “For now, all I’m asking is for more sets of eyes looking out for this person. For now, that’s all we can do. Eventually we may work this a little like a case, figure out who this person is and help them if they need help.” Sam said simply taking a deep breath and looking around, meeting each of their gazes head on. They could read his conviction and sincerity like an open book. 

       “Even if it’s a homeless adult, there may be things we can do to help. I really don’t think you’re seeing things Sam.” Prophet assured as he settled back down into his seat and pulled the nearest stack of files closer to himself, flipping it open and beginning to read. The Red Cells had hit a dry spell in active cases that required slightly renegade agents, so they were making themselves useful looking through cold case files-a necessary duty that most of the team hated, but one that helped keep the paper pushers at the Bureau happy and convinced the brass that the teams were helpful even when there weren’t hot zones or fires to put out and manage.

       Mick gave a wordless hum of agreement and a nod, straightened and turned to the whiteboard with a timeline for a series of seven hangings along several East Coast highways that were all over ten years old. Barely connected and well outside each jurisdiction, the cases hadn’t been linked until someone had noticed that the same post mortem injuries kept popping up. Given the length of time that had gone by, the team was confident that the perpetrator was either dead or jailed for an unrelated crime, but they were still taking a look. Beth sighed through her nose, uncrossed her arms and nodded. With a short

       “Well, if anyone spots anything it’s almost certainly going to be Mick, but I’ll keep a look out.” She moved toward the left side of the conference table where her laptop and several maps were set up, she was analyzing geographical profiles for some very cold cases more for use in the training academy than anything else. She turned suddenly back to Sam and said.

       “For the record. I don’t think you’re seeing things either.” Then she sat down and dove head first into her work. Sam smiled. He loved his team.


	4. Cold Cases and Intrigue

The next few weeks passed slowly in a deluge of old unsolved cases so cold there were practically ice shards on the folders. No matter how unlikely, all the cases needed to be periodically reviewed in light of new forensic techniques and technologies. The backlog was enormous. For a team like Sam’s, it was tedious and sometimes downright painful to sort through the avalanche of musty records and outdated reports though Beth was not so quietly thrilled at the prospect of making those files talk, she attacked paperwork with all the intensity of a starving lioness on a gazelle.

The mystery shadow had yet to reappear. Sam once again became very quietly and privately nervous that all his time spent in the dark was once again taking over. He had had good reasons for leaving the FBI the first time, despite the protests of amazing and well respected Agents like Aaron Hotchner and Rossi, even Gideon had chimed in a bit. Though Gideon had been much more understanding of Sam’s decisions than many of the other Agents had been at the time.

Once again Sam felt the sneaking smoke of paranoia was creeping in, the weight of the victims they couldn’t save weighing heavily like stones about his neck. He heard their accusing whispers in his dreams, the cries for justice that came too late. Painting was a relief, helping him immortalize the seriousness of the events that had taken place, reassuring himself that the lives that had been lost mattered. Mattered still. Someone remembered them, someone mourned their loss. Reminding him that in the midst of crushing defeat and despair were bright moments of hope and victory, that this work was important.

The world needed those like himself who could bear to look Evil in the face and remind it that the Light existed. His visits with the clergy helped as well, keeping him grounded to the truth of the present, though he did not get to meet with his old colleagues from seminary as often as he would like.

They were coming to the close of another long day of nothing but dusty boxes of backlogged paperwork that occasionally made everyone sneeze. Weeding through cold case after cold case and preforming data entry for the strictly paper files into the online formats, sifting through outdated and tedious reports. It was seven in the evening, the sky beginning to darken and intensify but it was still light enough to see clearly, heading into the twilight hours. There were cardboard takeout containers of Chinese and Thai food spread out amongst the team, Gina was supposed to be arriving from Annapolis in the morning, she’d sounded tired on the phone and Sam made a mental note to check in with her. The team was quiet, each involved with their own case files when Mick suddenly groaned, shoved back in his seat and scrubbed his face with his hands in exasperation.

“Sam, mate, I’m sorry but this file’s a bust, the witness statements are practically nonexistent and there may as well be no forensic evidence at all! I’ve been rereading the same information over again for the last five minutes.” Mick muttered, getting frustrated at last with his tenth case folder of the day.

“Want to take a break to spar before we call it quits for the evening? I think we’ve all worked hard enough for one day.” Sam commented mildly, flipping through his case folder with a distracted and nonchalant air.

“Please. Spare me the slow death from a thousand moldy paper cuts and give me something to hit!”

“Weren’t you a sniper, didn’t they drill the value of patience and persistence into your head?” Beth retorted from her customary place at the conference table as her fingers flew over her keyboard, entering data into her program algorithms as fast as she could pull it form the unwilling files in front of her.

“Oh, I can be more than patient love, if the mood is right and I’ve got a target to wait for. More than patient, don’t you worry.” Mick smirked as he rose from his seat and headed toward the gym, Sam smiled as he too rose to stretch his muscles, like Mick he found it helpful to work out his frustrations with physical activity. It was a beautiful day, so the doors to the gym were partway open to let the fresh air inside. Mick and Sam were about halfway through a really good spar when Prophet whistled from the catwalk and called out to them. He waited until they stopped and he had their attention before he said.

“Come up and take a look.” There was an interesting note in his voice that put Sam on alert instantly, a note that rarely appeared, one that indicated the possibility of trouble and a faint note of distress. When they entered the office, Prophet wasn’t looking over files, he was staring intently out the windows that overlooked the alley. He gestured to them with his hand below the level of the window, his upper body remaining still and relaxed.

“It looks like your shadow may not be a myth or a figment of your imagination Sam, come take a look and tell me what you think.” Prophet said quietly. He moved out of the way so that Sam could take his place in the darker edge of the window and look out. Sam focused across the street, settling in as he felt Mick crowd close to him near the window. There, in the alley, slowly moving up behind the dumpster for the bar, was a small figure in a dark poncho or cloak. As Sam watched they settled down right next to the dumpster, appearing to lean partially against it.

“That’s the figure all right. Though it looks like they may not be coming in to the alley to look for me at all, they seem to have a way with animals. The nasty Tom with the missing ear just appeared and is curled up in their lap. I wonder if we can go down and have a conversation tonight and get this whole thing cleared up.” He murmured as he watched a corner of the poncho move slowly and rhythmically like the figure was petting the ornery cat.

“I for one vote to get the suspense over with as soon as possible, but I dare say all three of you going out there would intimidate the poor soul.” Beth remarked dryly from behind the three of them. Sam glanced her way and noticed her wry smile and the quirk of her eyebrow as she looked the three of them over.

“Would you like to go meet the mystery person Beth?” Sam asked. Beth grinned and shook her head.

“Nope, I wasn’t the one who decided to get caught up in an unsanctioned Nancy drew mystery, one of you boys can take care of it. I’m just saying it might be better for only one of you to go.” She replied slightly acidly with a small laugh as she returned to her laptop.


	5. Under The Dumpster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Shadow reappears....and Sam is a bit too overeager

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the delay....I warned you guys this was slow to update, thanks for letting me know you're excited for me to continue it. I'm heading back to school and leaving work and there are some other big life changes going on....hopefully I can get some time to really sit and let the creative juices flow. thank you everyone who has kudos'd and commented. it's much appreciated :)

“You’re right Beth. Three’s too many for a casual conversation, I’ll go.” Sam replied looking out onto the alley for a moment longer before straightening and looking back to Mick, “Want to finish up that workout?” He asked with a grin.

“Please.” was the emphatic reply. Sam looked over at Prophet for a moment, Prophet started chuckling at the look on Sam’s face.

“I’ll keep an eye out for you man, they move, I’ll come get you, I promise.” Sam grinned in reply.

“I don’t know what to do.” Lynn breathed the words aloud. Her hand trembled and her wrists ached where the heavy edges of Daddy’s poncho rubbed them. The Tomcat in her lap rumbled and shifted, kneading against her legs as he settled his weight more comfortably against her. The last few weeks had been awful. She couldn’t go back, she couldn’t go to the Men with Badges, and she couldn’t run- she was far too small and alone to run and not get caught. Nobody was going to believe her. She was a bad girl. She was only good for one thing, and the Men with Badges would know how bad she was if she tried to tell. Lynn knew what was happening was wrong. She didn’t like it. Lynn was stuck.

Scary Man had brought even Scarier Men to the apartment, to Lynn’s room when Mama wasn’t home. Lynn didn’t like to think about everything that happened. She didn’t like to think about it, but it was all she could think about. Lynn was afraid, Lynn had always been the Scaredy Cat, but it was much worse now. She was risking a lot by coming to the alley today while it was still light outside, she knew she was going to be Punished or given to one of the Scary Man’s friends to play with. Lynn shuddered, feeling like she did right before she was going to throw up.

She pet the Boss Tomcat in her lap a little faster, a little too hard and he let out a loud “mrrt” of displeasure. She slowed down again, letting her fingers dance over his warm fur until he rumbled in a contented purr again. One thing was for certain, Lynn liked the Scary Man better before he’d gotten his idea for her to make money for him. Lynn preferred an angry, angry Scary Man who hit her and shook her to the Scary Man with the eyes like the rats that trailed over her and felt like sticky syrup- nasty and clingy and itchy and like she wanted soap and water to wash with NOW! Lynn liked Scary Man better than his friends. Lynn shuddered again and felt the strange prickling, stinging, wet, warm-and-cool sensation that meant she had tears running down her face. She wasn’t supposed to cry. Nobody liked it when Lynn cried, not even Lynn, but everything that had happened in the last few weeks was very hard for Lynn to handle. She couldn’t make sense of what was going on. Lynn knew it wasn’t right. Lynn knew it was very, very, VERY wrong.

If THAT was what happened to the Lady Cats in the alley, no wonder there was so much noise!

Mama hadn’t asked any questions when Lynn had shown up to the breakfast table rumpled and mussed and tired and shaky with a bruise on her face. Mama hadn’t asked why Lynn flinched away from Scary Man. Mama hadn’t even seemed all that surprised when she saw the bruises or the blood later during bath time, she did look sad, and she made a strange sort of noise like the cats sometimes did, a soft sort of low humming “mrrt” of her own. Lynn knew right then that Mama wasn’t going to stop it, Mama wasn’t going to save her. Mama couldn’t.

This was the first time in a long time that Lynn had been alone long enough to escape out of her room. Scary Man had been on the phone, Gary was in school and Mama was at the store. Lynn knew she was going to get Punished, but her room wasn’t a safe place anymore, she had to leave. Lynn was exhausted, every time she tried to sleep in her bed she remembered things she didn’t want to. Things that made her shake and whimper. Things that made her hide in her nest in her closet and rock, rock, rock. Lynn was so tired. Lynn wanted all of it to stop, but she couldn’t stop it. She was too little and too weak.

Lynn sighed. She hated the water slipping down her face, hated how it made her skin tight and achy and scratchy and warm. Rubbing at it only made it worse- she knew that the hard way so she sighed and waited and pet the Boss Cat until he arched and told her he was done being pet, slowly kneading his paws around her legs before stepping off in a huff to go catch his lunch. Lynn leaned her head against the dumpster and tucked her shaking hands under her arms, she hid her face in a fold of Daddy’s poncho and closed her eyes to listen. Other than the loud, echoing sharp car horns, the day was nice to listen too. The sounds of squeaking and thuds and grunts coming from the Place where Men Fought brought her up short. It wasn’t safe for her to be here today if there were Fighting Men around. She hurt and she didn’t want to move, but she forced herself to stand and began making her way slowly back around to the scratchy bushes, it would be quieter and safer back there even if there was more trash. Loud heavy, rushing feet thudded up behind her. Lynn froze. A yowling hiss spurred her into action. Time to leave. Past time to leave. Lynn started to run. A man’s voice boomed after her.

“Wait!”

Prophet watched the figure carefully much to the amusement of Beth typing away at the conference room table.

“You’re really going to indulge Sam by playing watchdog?”

“In case you weren’t aware, this has been eating him up for a while.”

“All you had to do was say ‘yes’ Prophet. Yes would have sufficed.” Prophet rolled his eyes, watching the figure stroke the cat- a mean, mangy thing that was particularly vicious if it had food of any kind. Prophet had been watching for about ten minutes, the cat left the mystery person, the figure seemed to settle down for a rest or a nap. Then all of a sudden, the figure turned its head in the direction of the front of the alley, stiffened, and began getting up from their resting position. Prophet pushed off the wall, hurried to the doorway, opened it and called a loud, clearly heard word.

“Sam!” was all he said. Sam took off running for the door almost instantly. That told Prophet a lot. A lot that made him concerned for his friend and his boss. There were going to be words later. Mick looked up at Prophet, gasping for breath and pouring sweat with a quirked eyebrow before he hurried after Sam. Beth was beside him with her own strange expression of mirth and exasperation.

“It seemed like a good idea at the time.” Was all Prophet said before he headed back into the office with a pat to Beth’s shoulder, she snorted and followed after him, closing the door gently behind her.

Sam regretted his haste when he realized that he’s spooked whoever it was that had come to the alley. He regretted his sharp call the moment it left his mouth. The figure froze for half a moment and then continued hurrying on. Sam easily outran the--child? he ran in front of the figure, the hood of the cloak was deep and shadowed the face of the person, but Sam was almost positive it was a child. The child stopped as suddenly as they had begun to run, frozen to the spot but not looking up at him. Mick jogged up behind the slight figure drowning in the large black rain poncho and they stiffened. Their head turned to the right and to the left, looking for an escape he was sure.

“It’s okay. We don’t want to hurt you,----” The child interrupted the beginning of Sam’s speech with a high pitched squealing cry, reeled to the right and dashed away as fast as their legs could carry them. They crawled underneath the dumpster at the very back of the alley, the poncho making a strange whining shushing sliding sound as it brushed against the metal floor of the dumpster. Sam swore softly. Mick crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow in silent question, Sam nodded once. Mick approached the dumpster on near silent feet and slowly crouched to peer underneath it. After he’d confirmed that the child, it definitely was a child, was still under there he eased his body flat to the dirt in front of it and turned his face to meet the shadowed lump of weatherproofed cloth and frightened youngster shivering at the back of the cramped space.

“Hello there, my name’s Mick. My friend Sam and I were wondering if you were okay. I’m sorry he scared you, I promise he didn’t mean to. Can you tell me your name so we can have a wee little chat?” He kept his voice soft and medium toned, pitched for normal conversation and waited for a response. There was none forthcoming. Mick nodded to himself.

“That’s fine, you don’t have to tell me your name, can you let me know if you’re okay? Is there somebody we can call for you?” The lump shifted a little, but the child remained quiet. Clearly frightened and reluctant to speak or acknowledge Mick or Sam.


	6. and Down the Rabbit Hole

There was some sort of silent standoff occurring, Mick could sense the tension in the air between the two of them, could nearly taste it, but he wasn’t sure how to break it. The child was clearly frightened. He didn’t want to risk moving and goading the poor thing into trying to escape from under the dumpster.

       “Are you hurt?”

**~~**

When the Boss Cat kneaded his claws into her leg and arched up for a final scratch to say goodbye as he went off to hunt his dinner, Lynn folded back against the dumpster. She hated feeling the water slip down her face and make it tight and scratchy and hot and cold at the same time, it only reminded her about what had happened. Remembering everything that happened in her room made the nasty sour icky taste come up in the back of her throat, it made her tummy clench and burn and make icky burble sounds like she was going to throw up and Lynn hated throwing up even more than crying.

The sounds of the Men Who Fought made her even more scared than usual. She didn’t want to listen to those sounds any longer and the way that she was sitting against the wall and the dumpster pinched the places that ached already in a bad way, in an ouch too much kind of way when usually the push in on her body felt really good. Now it stung and dug against sore spots. It was time to move, she needed to be safe. She wasn’t safe here. She stretched a little to settle her feet under her better and then stood up, slow and careful like the cats did when they weren’t sure if they were safe or okay and then she slowly followed the Boss Cat who was stalking around the back of the building where the scratchy bushes were. When he suddenly stiffened, hissed, and yowled a little, Lynn began to run, she knew that noise. It wasn’t a good noise.

A Man was running behind her, he yelled at her and made her jump and run faster, but his legs were longer, he was grown and she was little and there wasn’t much she could do.     

The thudding footsteps of the Man Who Fought belonged to the Calm Man. That wasn’t right, that wasn’t safe, Lynn shook herself- of course he wasn’t safe, he was a Man. He smelled like icky sweat and he was breathing hard. She froze in place like the cats did when they stalked the mice and rats in the alley carefully keeping her eyes off of his face and on his feet, people didn’t like it when she looked them in the face, it made them Angry, and the Calm Man was already not safe, she didn’t want to make him Angry too. If she watched his feet she could see where he moved if he used his legs, she’d learned that really quick in her bedroom with the other Scary Men. She didn’t want to think about how bad a girl she’d been, she couldn’t, it wasn’t safe to think about that.

  Lynn looked carefully to her sides since she couldn’t run fast enough forward, on one side was the wall to the alley and the other was the end of the alley and the dumpster. The Dumpster! The dumpster at the end of the alley was sitting on dirt not on the pavement like the rest of the ones in the alley and there was a stray dog that liked to hide under it, it would be a squishy squeeze, a really tight push in on me like I can’t breathe squishy squeeze, but she could hide under there if she had to.

Another set of footsteps sounded behind her and another smell came to her nose, she wrinkled it and it felt funny with the dried water on her face, why did Men always smell bad after they Fought? They smelled nothing like the ladies who came back to the apartment after a run in the park, those ladies smelled like flowers and fruits and pretty things even when they looked gross and wet with sweat and were red in the face. The Men who Fought always smelled bad, smells that were sharp and hurt Lynn’s nose. She could feel their eyes on her, it felt like claw marks and itchy things on her back and front. She was cornered and if she’d learned one thing from the Boss Cats it was that it was a Very Bad Thing to be cornered.

“It’s okay, we don’t want to hurt you-” Those words! They were very bad words! These Men knew! They knew what a bad girl she was, they knew! They knew what the Scary Man and his friends had done and now they wanted to do the same thing to her. She didn’t want that to happen, no, no, no, nononono! She was too hurt, she was too sore and she never ever, ever, ever wanted that to happen again! Her chest felt funny and she dove to the side a little toward the dumpster feeling Daddy’s poncho pull on her as it flapped around her, she went flat to her belly and reached her arms like she’d seen the bigger kids in the pool at the YMCA do to pull herself underneath the scritchy metal bottom of the dumpster, it made Daddy’s poncho scrape and whine and feel like it was being ripped off, but it was safer under here. Lynn didn’t like it. She didn’t like it, she didn’t like it, it was scratchy and pokey and it smelled like trash and other bad things, but she felt safer under here. The Scary Men couldn’t reach her under here and she was pretty sure they couldn’t lift the big dumpster even though there were two of them. She was safe. It hurt her sore spots being under here, but she scootched as far back as she could until she felt the different, gentle push of the fence behind her. If she tried hard she could pop out on the other side of the fence, but the Scary Men looked like the kind of Men who could climb a fence like the one at the back of the alley. She was better off staying still and quiet and hoping they got bored and left her alone.  

They weren’t going to leave her alone. Lynn heard the one that wasn’t The Scary Calm Man walk around the dumpster, heard one of them say a bad word, heard shuffling and then she saw sneakers turn to jeans turn to an icky shirt and a face. She shut her eyes and curled up really tight even though it hurt to curl up. She didn’t want anything bad to happen, nothing bad ever again, but they knew that she’d been a bad girl and they were going to do bad things. She knew it! This was very bad. The Man looking at her from outside on the pavement didn’t talk like anybody she knew, she like the sound his talking made, it sounded pretty and it felt like it did when she put her hands under warm water in the sink and just let it run. Mama hated it when she did that, but it felt so nice that sometimes she did it anyway- not lately though, not since the Scary Man had moved in with Mama.

He was a Man with a nice voice that made her feel warm, but Lynn knew she shouldn’t come out. He was still a man.

“Are you hurt?” He was silly! Of course she was hurt. She had to be hurt to be out of her room like this during the middle of the day with the Scary Man threatening to hurt her or give her to one of his friends if she didn’t be good. Of course she was hurt. She couldn’t help the little snort sound that came out of her mouth at that. There was nothing else to do at that.

There was a muffled shuffling sound behind her and then the hard poke of something living. A low growl split the air. The dog had come and it didn’t like her being in its spot. It didn’t like it one bit.


	7. Madness

the growling and nosing got louder, Lynn whimpered softly and backed up against the pressure of that nose, and the pointy scratchy fence. She wasn't coming out the front side of the dumpster, the dog was safer. She pushed and pushed her back into the fence until it buckled out a bit, enough that the dog backed up to bark at her. This wasn't good, she was in so much trouble, so much trouble! The dog's nose disappeared and he was barking even louder, she heard the fence ringing and felt it wobbling and poking against her back, one of the Men who Fought was climbing the fence. Not good. They knew she was a bad girl and they were going to Punish her, this was not good at all. She whimpered a little, bunching into a tight little ball, squeezing in tight on herself until it was hard to breathe.

 

"Hey, hey, hey. Easy now, nobody is going to hurt you, nobody is going to hurt you little one." The Man looking at her from the front of the dumpster said, he was smiling, but Lynn couldn't tell if it was a nice smile or one of the smiles that the Scary Man gave her and she didn't want to find out. Suddenly the dog went quiet and there were HANDS on her back! Warm, rough, big hands, pulling and tugging on her from around the fence wire. It would do no good to scream, she wiggled and squirmed in the grip of those hands as much as she could, but she was only little and those hands were big. They pulled and tugged and twisted her squirmy wormy self slowly out from under the wire and into the arms of the Calm Man who was a Man who Fought, Lynn couldn't help it, she whimpered and squealed as he held her, tucked her up under his arm and grabbed the edges of Daddy's poncho until he had them all in one hand with her tucked up under his arm, she was sort of in a Daddy poncho pouch wiggling and worming and kicking a little bit, but she couldn't get out. She stopped moving, hung limp inside the poncho like a kitten in a Lady Cat's mouth, she knew it was useless to try and get out because she was only little and they were big and strong. The swaying rock of the warm poncho holding her close felt kind of nice, like a hug, Lynn imagined it was Daddy's arms and Daddy's hands holding her safe and warm and quiet even though she knew it wasn't, it still felt nice to think about, something soft and safe and warm like her closet before she was Punished.       


	8. Fear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So AO3 ate a good portion of what was supposed to be last chapter, and I had formatting issues when I tried to load the rest of it in its entirety, so instead of one long chapter, you're getting bits and pieces as I can get them to upload. Sorry about that.

The swaying felt nice, it went on for longer than Lynn thought it should, but she was being silly, the Calm Man couldn’t climb the fence with her so he was walking up the other side of the alley and around the sidewalk…the sidewalk! Lynn would be seen and then the Scary Man would find out! And then even if the Calm Man who Fought didn’t Punish her, the Scary Man would find her and HE would do it! No! nonononononono! The thought of the Scary Man Punishing her was enough to have her thrashing and thrashing as hard as she could. Lynn startled the Calm Man, she felt him jump and shift as she moved.

“Nobody is going to hurt you, I promise. I’m so sorry I scared you sweetheart, I didn’t mean to scare you.” The Man kept talking as he walked and Lynn could feel his voice rumble and buzz and thump through Daddy’s poncho and hear it with her ears. When he was being the Calm Man, his voice sounded nice sort of like the lady who sang on the corner and her friend who sometimes sang but most of the time played a funny metal recorder called a sassy phone, they were nice and they let her sit and listen and didn’t tell her to go away or try and make her talk. She liked the way their voices hit the side of the building and the window where they played on the corner because she could hear the echo bouncing off and if she sat in the right spot, she could hear them make music, and hear the echo right after, it made fun patterns in the air for her to follow with her ears. Sometimes Lynn could almost see the patterns in the air and then the music came alive because she could hear it and feel it and see it and it wrapped her up and it was so BEAUTIFUL, full of little twisty sparkly colorful strings and knots and braids and twisty squiggly bits and they all circled back around to make a painting. It was different and the same sort of feeling that Lynn got when she came to the alley at night to watch the Calm Man paint in the rain, like she was safe, like nothing could touch her, like she was alone.

But she wasn’t alone. She was with the Calm Man who Fought. But she was inside Daddy’s poncho, and Daddy’s poncho looked like a garbage bag, so if she stayed really REALLY still maybe nobody would notice and if they didn’t notice it would take a lot longer for the Scary Man to find her. Lynn stopped trying to escape, it wouldn’t work anyway, they were very big and she was only little, besides trying to get out was tired work and it was making her bruises hurt, better to stop now. She curled up as little as she could get in the poncho, tucking herself tight tight tight into a ball, pushing her chin down and hunching her shoulders up and hugging her knees, turning her fingers into claws where they grabbed at her arms. She wasn’t going to make it easy for them to Punish her like THAT again.

The sounds of the street, the cars and the horns and the ringing and buzzing and peeping and shrilling and yelling and whining of the awful AWFUL machines got quieter and the sounds of Men Fighting got louder, a sound that always meant Trouble for Lynn. She couldn’t help it, she started shaking like she did when she was cold and wet in the winter time and her lips turned blue and her fingers got tingly and she had sticky grippy bits of snow that hugged her hair and her coat and her icky scratchy-not-scratchy-tight-not-tight mittens that Mama made her wear, but she wasn’t cold. It was warm and dark and soft and grippy-tight-gentle-hug inside Daddy’s poncho. It should feel safe. But it didn’t. Because now she could smell the icky salt and metal and gross smells of sweat and fighting and anger and fear, she could smell the bite and burn and gag of the cleaner for the floor and hear thuds and shouts and grunts and slaps and squeaks and she did not like it at all, she did not like it, she did not like it one bit. But Lynn had learned how to be quiet, she was a Scaredy Cat when it came to other people, she was only a Boss Cat when she was alone with the furry cats in the alleys, she wasn’t big enough or loud enough or old enough or Men enough to be a Boss Cat with people.

She shut her eyes closed until they scrunched and she could feel that nudging pressure like someone poking her on her eyelids and the swirling flashing colors burst in front of her like fireworks-only better because they didn’t have any loud booming, screaming, crying, cracking noises. She watched the fireworks on her eyelids and she remembered her Daddy’s heartbeat thump-a-thump-a-thumping away under her ear all soft and snuggly and she heard the words he said to her when she was afraid and angry and sad and the words wouldn’t come and all she wanted to do was kick and hit and break things, or hide so nobody could find her. “Breathe with me, and count out loud. You need to be calm so the words can come, you’re not broken, you’re just made different, made like me and that’s okay. I love you sweet Lynn. Now, just breathe and count with me.” She remembered him rocking her and squeezing her tight and gentle and just right- pushing her in on herself enough for her to FEEL herself and FEEL him holding her instead of the maddening awful buzzing itching crawling spiky bug legs, rocking her back and forth in time with his heartbeat and his breathing, helping her feel like she wasn’t flying away. She wished with all her heart Daddy was still here.

It got a little less loud and scary, she felt the Calm Man change his grip on her a little bit, and then they were moving up, she heard the thump-boing-spring-clack-tic of feet on wooden stairs, felt the wobble tilt tickle in the air and through Daddy’s poncho, heard other footsteps climbing up too. Lynn bit her lip. They were probably going to Punish her now, they knew she’d been a Very Bad Girl, Scary Man said that they would know, and they did, but she wouldn’t cry. Lynn hated crying and it always made everything worse. If she was quiet they left her alone faster, if she was quiet maybe she could get out of this awful building where the Men Fought and go back to the alley to be with the Boss Cats where it was quiet and nobody noticed her. If she was quiet maybe it would be over with soon. 


	9. Quiet and Chaos

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one fought me hard....I warned you this thing updated like molasses in midwinter!

Lynn heard the scrape of a chair, other voices. Ladies voices and Men’s voices. The Calm Man who Fought was sitting down, and he was still holding her. She felt him change his arms around, felt him loosening his grip on Daddy’s poncho. Lynn twisted and went as squirmy as she could, sliding down the Calm Man’s legs until she felt the bump of the floor.

“Hey now sweetheart, easy. It’s all right, everything’s all right.” The Calm Man who Fought was talking, and Lynn heard more footsteps and the sound of a door closing. She scramble crawled, half blind under the hood of the poncho until she bashed into the wall, then crawled along until she felt a not-wall. It was cold and bangy like the wall of the dumpster, but it was smooth. Slowly, very slowly she curled up, she was in Trouble, they were going to Punish her any second now.

More footsteps, some with slaps and some with squeaks and some with clicks all moving around. It was a lot of noise as people started talking again and it hurt Lynn’s ears. She squeaked, rocking against the cool metal not-wall until it made a boom-burble noise. Everything got quiet after that for a minute. One set of footsteps, slow, soft, sqeaky. Lynn could smell sweat and icky Man smells sharp and itchy and heavy in her nose, it made her shudder and sniff. The Man from the front of the dumpster was talking, quiet and slow and gentle. Like people who fed the alley cats talked to them when the food went out on the stoops.

“I’m sorry everything’s been pretty scary for you the last few minutes. There you were petting the cat all by your lonesome nice and warm in the sun and then suddenly there’s people chasing you and yelling at you and grabbing you, it’s no wonder you’re scared sweetling. Nobody’s going to hurt you, we just want to talk to you and find out if you’re okay. Do you think you can come out from under there?” His voice made her shiver, it felt like warm clean purring fur under her fingers, all soft and silky and rumbly. It made her feel a little better, though she was still feeling all twitchy and itchy and prickly, and all tight and pinched in.

She uncurled just a little, enough to look out from under the edge of Daddy’s poncho. The Man wasn’t smiling, but his face was soft, he didn’t look like Scary Man or Scary Man’s friends did when they looked at her. HE was sitting down with his legs all folded up looking at her. She could see other people’s legs and feet spread out behind The Man.

“Hello there. My name’s Mick. What’s your name?” Lynn ducked back at the direct question, her whole body going stiff.

“Okay, it’s okay. Easy now.” The Man soothed, his voice going even softer and smoother, it almost shimmered like a warm patch of sunshine or when Mama melted honey and oil together when she made granola. That voice made Lynn feel like purring.

“Should I introduce everybody? I think that’s a good idea. Behind me sitting in the chair is Cooper, he’s the one who carried you, standing over by the window we have Beth and Prophet.” As The Man spoke each of the other’s names, they made a noise, so Lynn could place them in the room. She was trapped, there was no way that she was getting out of here without one of them letting her out, but she was also a little less scared, maybe they didn’t realize that she was a Bad Girl yet? Maybe she wasn’t going to be Punished right away? That made her go still. The Scary Man was not a nice Man, he Lied. He said he wasn’t going to hurt Mama or her or Gary and he did, so maybe he Lied a lot. Maybe these Men weren’t like the rats, maybe they wouldn’t Punish her. She peeked out of the poncho again. This time she moved her head enough that it slipped back a little and her face popped out. She heard a gasp.

“Who hurt your face little one? Are you hurt anywhere else?” Murmured the Man, more sharp like the warning hiss of a Boss Cat. Lynn shook her head quick and scraped herself back against the wall. She wasn’t supposed to talk about it.

“Mick?” The Calm Man rumbled, shifting around in the chair and making it squeak. The Man shook his head and glanced back toward the Calm Man sitting in the chair.

“She’s got finger shaped bruises on her cheek and jaw Coop. Large, finger shaped bruises.” The room went tense and silent like when the alleys froze for danger.

Footsteps, from farther away, slappy footsteps. Lynn cocked her head and imagined her ears twitching and tilting like the cats did when they listened really hard. Those footsteps sort of sounded like someone she knew a little. Sneakers and jeans greeted her as the other person got down on the floor with The Man. Then long fingers, and a plaid shirt and another Man’s face. But she KNEW that face. He lived in her apartment building, only he lived on a different floor. When Daddy had been alive he would come over to play cards sometimes. He came to the door sometimes still when the Scary Man wasn’t home and he would talk to Mama, but Mama wouldn’t let him inside the apartment anymore. Lynn cowered back and tilted her chin down, but she saw when he recognized her.

“Lynn? Lynn Sanders?” His voice was strange and high sounding, not thee grumble rumble like thunder it was when he was talking to Mama. Lynn shivered again and then looked at him. He gasped, but he knew better that to reach for her, he knew she was different. He looked sad.

“Oh honey.” He said, looking back at The Man and the Calm Man for a moment before he turned back to her and sat next to The Man so their knees touched. He held his hand out to her, slow and steady with his thumb tilted toward the ceiling a little and his fingers all floppy like spaghetti noodles.

“You think you can come out from there?” He asked after a few minutes when she just looked at him and The Man. She shook her head.

“Okay. That’s okay. Are you hurt?” Lynn stared at him for a long time before she looked away again. She wasn’t allowed to talk about it. She wasn’t. She would be Punished, Scary Man made sure of it.

“Lynn, did Darius do this to you honey? Did Darius hurt you?” Lynn flinched hard, Scary Man would punish her! She dove under her poncho with a sharp whimper, she wanted to keep it behind her teeth, but she KNEW that Scary Man would Punish her for this! She just knew it!

The room suddenly got very, very loud again. Lynn stopped trying to listen, she just grabbed her ears and rocked, rocked, rocked. Hoping she wasn’t going to be Punished. She didn’t even talk, and somehow they knew about Scary Man! He was going to be so mad at her, so very mad!


End file.
